A friend came over today and brought us lunch and a freezer meal. Wasn’t that nice? People have been overwhelming us with love in all these tangible ways since little Samuel came along. Shoot, we may need to have another kid soon when all this excitement wears off.

No. Never mind. We need sleep.

Anyways, as my friend sat across the table and rocked Samuel, she asked how everything was going. You know, the transition from two kids to three. I assessed everything for a moment, because I’ve hardly just begun this new adventure, but in my fuzzy, sleep-deprived brain, it sort of dawned on me. I realized that truthfully, I’m just trying to find my way again.

Even here in my own house, with my own kids, with the grocery list always going and the toys that keep reappearing on the living room floor, I just feel a little bit lost. Life change has a way of doing that, doesn’t it? It has this way of throwing us off and leaving us scattered and disoriented. And in the middle of the night when I’m pacing the floor with my newborn, holding him close, his aching belly scrunched up to the warmth of mine,  the only thing I know to do is reach out for the Center of all things and hold on.

My prayers become a little more simple and my life gets a little more basic. My to-do list looks mostly like this:

1. Feed Samuel and keep him alive.
2. Don’t forget to feed Gideon and Hope so they’ll stay alive, too.
3. Don’t let Hope and Gideon kill each other or sit on Samuel.
4. Feed myself so I’ll stay alive and be able to keep the others alive.
5. Dump out the stinky diaper trash. Shoo-wee.
6. Pick up a little bit around here so nobody gets lost in the piles.
7. Stay alive.
8. Hold on to Jesus. He is your Center.

And just when I start to get that guilty feeling that I’m not doing enough, or being enough, God steps in and encourages me. Like, today when I read Psalm 103 with this feeble prayer of, “Lord, help! Give me something!” I read…

“Oh my soul, bless God. From head to toe, I’ll bless His holy Name!”

And then a little further down the page…

“God knows our frame. He remembers that we’re dust.” 

So, this is how I’m holding on to Jesus and staying centered as my world tilts and turns. I’m blessing my God. He gives me all my breaths, so I’m breathing in and out and blessing His Name.

And I’m remembering that my worth and value come from who I am, not what I do. I’m a child of the King. I’m precious in His sight. He knows my frame. He remembers that I’m dust. He’s far more tender than I had thought Him to be. He looks at me through the rose-colored lens of His Son.

And sometimes when I’m holding Samuel close and enjoying every little thing about him, I think about how God must be enjoying me. Just because. He made me and I’m His. He looks at His children with a momma’s eyes, brimming full of love and spilling wonder. 

So, I’m clinging to my Maker and doing my best to keep everyone alive. We’re learning how to morph and we’re finding our way.